The Gift Of Mystra
by gpeddino
Summary: The journey of three friends across Faerun. Their adventures and the struggles they will face.
1. The Hullack Forest

It was just another dark night in the forest.

Kara seemed hypnotized by the dancing flames in front of her. The silence and shadows had enwrapped everything, and the small campfire made by her own hands looked like salvation in the horizon. The snapping of the burning wood was the only sound around. The rogue tightened her blanket around her red-haired head and sighed.

— I hate this silence. It's nerve-racking.

None of the two men close to her answered the comment. Hashan was standing some meters away from her, in a state of full concentration, trying to spot any suspect movement inside the gloomy forest. With slow movements, the warrior whirled the edge of his blade on the ground, mumbling something inaudible. He seemed completely lost in thoughts, making Kara wonder if his patrol was being effective at all.

Not far from Kara was sitting Corister, resting his back against a bulky tree. The young mage seemed completely focused on his spell book, covered with leather and strange drawings. Kara could hear him whispering strange mystic words from inside his red hood, while his nimble fingers seemed to draw figures in the air. Kara turned her eyes to Lea, Corister's familiar, begging for some company. The green-glowing pixie was sleeping over a large leather bag, beside her master. Her smooth wings were moving up and down, together with her breathing.

The rogue surrendered. In a quick movement, she reclined her body to the side and closed her eyes. Her muscles were aching because of the long journey they were on. The road to Highmoon seemed to get longer day by day. And it was definitely that forest. The strange atmosphere was affecting the whole party in a subtle way. Only Kara could actually feel that. During her lonely childhood in the distant Moonshaes she was taught to listen and understand the nature. But that place seemed poisonous, permeated with silent and disturbing evil.

Lost in thoughts, Kara slowly fell asleep.

Her rest lasted for few minutes. The rogue was suddenly awaken by a creepy, inhuman moaning. The strange sound burst from the deep forest, and it was enough to put the whole party on its feet.

Breathing fast, the rogue instinctively grasped her bow and an arrow from the quiver, targeting her projectile to many directions. Corister seemed calmer, but equally dismayed. Taking hold of his dagger from his belt, the mage told the frightened Lea to hide on the top of the tree. Hashan turned to what he judged to be the origin of the sound, sword drawn.

The horrified party then found out what was coming. Many zombies were limping in their direction, their hands raised, trying to reach for them. The rotten flesh mingled with dirt and tatters disgusted Kara, who managed to throw her quiver on her shoulder with a quick movement. An only arrow would not be enough at all.

Kara and Hashan moved backwards, getting close to Corister and the campfire. The undead kept on moving forward with slow pace, thirsty of blood. Kara gasped and armed an arrow. Corister moved his hand, asking her to hold fire.

The mage closed his eyes and started mumbling in an unknown tongue:

_Fedrit Oegmund Jbadirt Kostum Paektra…_

Corister raised a hand in the air and a pale blue glow started to emanate from his fingers. The energy focus grew stronger until take the shape of three shining projectiles. Kara couldn't wait. The fear was taking over her.

Suddenly, the sound of her arrow ripped the silence of the night. Hashan cried with fury and threw himself over the zombies. His blade immediately knocked down two of the monsters, as Corister's darts were aimed on one of them. The creatures groaned, but there were more of them coming out of the darksome woods. Kara's arrows were flying without control, she was able to make many of them fall. Corister was busy conjuring another spell, when he felt the sharp teeth of a zombie piercing his shoulder.

_It's the end_ — He thought, feeling the pain invade his body with the speed of lightning.

But the mage was surprised when the monster fell beside him, stunned by a large branch fallen from the tree beside. The mage looked up for a moment and spotted Lea waving to him, from among the leaves. That was enough for him to be thankful for having a familiar.

The battle didn't last for long. There weren't many zombies and soon the forest was as silent as before. The group could not linger to leave, or more beasts would appear briefly. Corister packed their belongings into a leather bag, while Kara put the campfire out. A few moments later, the three companions were crossing the dark forest, moving among the trees with haste under the moonless night.


	2. A Strange Staff and a Strange Man

CHAPTER 2

The steps of the adventurers were echoeing all around the woods. The crackling of dead leaves was melded with the heavy breathing. Hashan was on the lead, holding a torch in a hand and his sword in the other, trying to spot anything unusual in the complete darkness ahead. Kara was right behind him, with her bow tight in her hand; an arrow already prepared to be fired. Corister and Lea were side by side, paying attention to every bush nearby.

After some hours of running, they could notice the first rays of sunlight bursting through the bark of the trees. Hashan instintively slowed down his steps, and the others did the same. The fear was now vanishing, and their bodies were in need of rest. When they finally reached the border of the forest, they didn't share a word to discuss if they should stop at that moment. Hashan simply bumped his back against a thick stem and Corister started scanning the ground for sticks. Kara ran her eyes over the green hills ahead of them, with the vague impression of having heard screams in the distance. For a moment, she imagined it was some delayed effect from the frightening previous night.

A few minutes later they were all sat down on the grass, filling up their stomachs with some boiling soup. Corister had a small iron cauldron in his bag, which was proving to be quite useful in times like those. The pleasant smell renewed their strength, and soon all their pain had vanished completely. Corister stood up to stretch his legs, but suddenly froze to the spot, his eyes focused on the hill top nearby. He seemed shaken.

— Stand up. Now.

By the tone of his voice, Kara and Hashan could notice that something was going wrong. In a second, both were on their feet, with their weapons drawn.

In the distance they saw four horsemen, riding with haste in their direction. One of them was wearing grey and had a white stallion, and was way ahead from the other three, as if running away. They could clearly see a strange object in his hand, shining in green. In a certain moment the horse was hit in the leg by an arrow coming from its persecutors, and stumble heavily on the grass, throwing its horseman away.

Kara and Hashan moved forward instinctively when they saw the strange man running in their direction, leaving his mount back. They could already hear the neighing of the horses at a gallop. Their riders were screaming wildly, waving their swords around. Kara gulped and armed an arrow.

— Wait. — Corister moaned — Let me try something first.

The mage quickly reached for his bag, and grabbed a strange flask, in which they could see a purple and viscous liquid. He passed it to Hashan, his somber face sweating.

— Aim for the horses. Don't miss it.

The warrior tried to calculate the speed and strength necessary for the casting, but there was no time left. With a growling effort he lifted the flask in the air and released it. The moment seemed to last for ages. As the object crashed to the floor, an explosion of coloured gases burst from the grass, making the three horses call off their charging and raise their feet in the air.

The three warriors fell down to the floor as their horses crossed the coloured cloud and disbanded. Lea rushed to stop the horses, after a quick look from her master. The mage finally turned to the enemies and drew his dagger.

As the man in grey approached their camp, out of breath and about to say something, an arrow ripped the vanishing smoke and hit him in the back, making him stumble over the high grass in front of Kara. The shining staff he was carrying fell some feet ahead.

Startled by the fighters' persistence, Hashan drew a hand axe out of his belt and threw it on one of them, hitting right in the forehead. Kara was too nervous to think straight, and so she missed all of her arrows. Seeing that she would not be able to handle the other two, Hashan drew his sword and charged in their direction. Corister turned to the fallen man and noticed with surprise that he was still alive.

— Th... the staff... — the man moaned.

— It is here. Try not to talk. — Corister was already sure that the

man had no chances of surviving.

— You... must sav... save the staff...

— What are saying, who are you? — The mage noticed that the man's

words had meaning.

— You must take the staff to Hi...Highmoon... don't trust anyone...

— The staff? But why?

— There you will know what to do... much depends on... — The man suddenly gasped and died.

Corister was feeling dizzy, shocked to see the man had died in his arms. As he turned to face his friends, they were walking towards him, the warriors fallen not far from them.

— He's dead. There was no hope left.

— Do you have any idea of who is he?

— No. Nothing.

Breathing fast, Kara walked back to the small campfire and sat on the grass, exhausted. Hashan ran to the hill top, trying to spot anything else in the distance, but all he could see were the chimneys of a distant village. Lea returned with the three horses tamed, and tied to each other by a piece of magic string.

Corister turned himself to the staff on the floor and bent over slowly to take hold of it. The shaft was carved in dark wood and inscribed with mystic drawings. In between them he could spot the symbol of Mystra, the Great Goddess of Magic. On the top there was a small globe made of glass, which seemed to be filled with a strange glowing fluid. The light of the staff was strong as the one of a torch, and Corister felt strange when his hands touched it.

— Corister, what's wrong? — Hashan asked as he approached, noticing the mage was staring deeply at the object.

— As feel as if my future was coming to me and pointing me a new way. And this way seems to be this staff.

— Well, if you think your future is a piece of wood, then your magic study must be really affecting your mind. — The warrior smirked and turned to join Kara.

Corister somehow was right, for his future would be closely linked to the destiny of that object.


	3. Shadows Of The Past

Thanks for reading. I know that my English is not the best (I'm non-native) but I plan to keep going on with this. If I ever take the story to an end, I may think of publishing it, after a lot of improvement, of course. Reviews are most welcome. : )

CHAPTER 3

In the sunny morning the group set foot on the road. The horses were pretty fast and healthy, and they hoped to reach somewhere in few hours. They could spot a bunch of buildings in the distance, which seemed like a village surrounded by a wooden palisade.

— We deserve some rest after these long nights — Hashan said — Let's head to the village and try to find some inn.

— A bed would be most welcome. — Kara replied.

Corister didn't answer. His horse was some meters behind the other two, and his mind was full of thoughts. He was feeling that the strange staff had a deeper meaning for him, as if was a signal of his fate.

During the long ride, Corister remembered his parents, isolated in an old house back in Baldur's Gate, disgusted for the son who left everything behind. Indeed he had left home at a young age, after much pressure from his family to become an important merchant. He used to secretly steal money from his father to pay magic classes from a travelling bard. Magic was his future, he knew. His true gift.

Years passed and Corister journeyed north by himself, cold and starving, until he reached Waterdeep. His life there was similar to one of a beggar, as the few coins he could collect from magic performances were all he had to survive. His life changed when a young red-haired girl paid him a meal. She was Kara, a girl coming from the Moonshaes looking for her destiny. That same night in the Red Gauntlet tavern, she told him that life was much more than a piece of land circled by stony walls. There was much life out there, many opportunities, and Corister absorbed that as a young child who's given a lesson.

The friendship between them and Hashan had led them to where they were. But he was feeling exhausted, wishing for a place to call home and people to call family. And that strange object in his hand was somehow making all those feelings vanish. He knew that he had to keep going, for the task he gave himself was not yet completed.

Hours passed hastily and by the sunset, Corister, Hashan and Kara reached a small village. Stardun was once a reasonably large commercial outpost between the Dalelands and Cormyr, but the constant battles in Archendale made many of its inhabitants flee to Arabel or Highmoon. Now the village was a small amount of buildings surrounded by a wooden palissade. The gate was open as the group approached it. Few people were walking in the streets and the scenery was dominated by a stony building the center of the village: a temple dedicated to Lathander, Lord of Dawn. Kara unmounted her horse and sighed as she spotted the sign of an inn. The two men followed her, too tired to contest.

The moon was rising as the group feasted over roasted pork. While Corister and Kara were sipping on their wine glasses, Hashan was gulping beer steadily. Unlikely other men, Hashan would entertain others with stories when drunk. Having travelled a lot around the Eastern Lands, he always had something to tell about one of his journeys. The tale of the evening was about a caravan he had escorted across Anauroch, the dangerous wasteland of sand.

Only the alcohol would make Hashan talk more than usual, for his common mood was introverted, mysterious and distant. He met Kara and Corister as they crossed Luskan, in a peculiar event: they were being attacked by wild wolves when Hashan heard the screaming and helped them out. When they shared the campfire that night, they knew that great friendship bounds had been created. But still they knew the warrior had some sort of secret, some reason for abandoning his peaceful life in the North.

Their bodies were tired from the tension of the previous night, and soon they went upstairs to the rooms they had rented for the night. Kara giggled as she closed her door after glancing to Hashan's dark but affectionate eyes. Both rooms had two single beds, heavy curtains and a small wooden table, but none of them bothered to check the furniture.

Lea nestled over a soft pillow on the floor. Hashan unceremoniously got rid of his cumbersome armor and weapons and fell heavily over the bed. "Didn't even bother a good night, drunkard." Corister thought.

Also lying on the bed, Corister could not stop thinking of his life. Since they had arrived in that little place in-between realms, he was missing the good old time by the Sword Coast, when his youth had not yet meant a threat for his father will. His friends were so far away, the only family he had now neglected him, he had no hope of returning his life to its former state.

Suddenly his eyes were dazzled by a strange wave of green light coming from the deep darkness. It took him some moments to notice its source — from right under his bed. He quickly moved his body to look, and when he did the light faded away. But he could catch a glimpse of the strange staff there, as if trying to give him some kind of signal.

Again he was surrounded by darkness, and know his mind was focused on the strange object below him. He wondered who was the man who entrusted him the mission of saving it, and why he would know what to do in Highmoon. Many secrets were folded in that green glow, and Corister knew they would change his life in some way.


End file.
